Balm to the afflicted spirit,
As forgiveness to the penitent;
Life for those who supplicate,
As Death to a loathed existence.
Lodged in tall and lucent,
Or entombed in dark and hidden;
‘Tis the core, the very substance,
That resurrects the lifeless soul.
Hushes the lips, like a woman’s kiss,
Touches the tongue, how bitter-sweet!
The river falls, then the cataract,
All majestic, cascading with love.
Oh for that moment to be frozen,
The lips of Vida forever locked in mine;
That nirvana, that respite life’s afflictions,
To the very end of time.
There’s no such thing in Eden,
Unto the dirt, all power is given;
While spirit resides in its fictile vessel,
O fount’n of youth, come and drown the desolation!